Time to Face the Strain
by Follow-ur-Shadow
Summary: Olivia is injured on the job forcing Elliot to realise his feelings and face the impact of them. (EO)
1. Chapter 1

**Time to Face the Strain**

 **Category:** hurt/comfort, angst, romance

 **Summary:** Olivia is injured on the job forcing Elliot to realise his feelings and face the impact of them. (EO)

 **Disclaimer:** Own nada!

 **Author's Notes:** Wow, it's been a long time since I've written an SVU fic! It's set somewhere within the realms of Eliot's divorce. First chapter is short but they get longer :)

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The cold air feels like a freezer slamming Elliot's lungs and an explicit curse bites his tongue as Olivia closes in on their perp, shimmying her way through the chained gate ahead of him. Usually he's faster but she's lighter on the ice and he quickly changes direction knowing there's no way in hell he's going to squeeze through after them. The guy they're chasing might look like a WWE wrestler but he's at least half the build of one and he swings himself round the next corner-

Ploughing directly into a young courier struggling with a stack of boxes.

 _Fuck_.

It's all he needs, and regrettably doesn't stop to help just shoves the kid out the way throwing a half-sincere apology over his shoulder. He can't afford niceties. His partner is in pursuit without backup and he pushes his legs to go faster trying to get traction as he slides around the last bend hoping to cut them off.

 _Bingo_.

The man is in a dead bolt towards him, Liv on his six, and he tenses ready to block when the guy suddenly drops like a bag of potatoes curling himself up into a tight ball. There isn't time to shout a warning and he can only watch helplessly as his partner trips over the body landing with a painful scrape across the icy cement. Their perp is quick to his feet but doesn't run. Instead he focuses on Olivia, hoisting her up by the jacket and slamming her violently against the brick wall.

Elliot collides with him a second later, rugby tackling him to the ground.

He barely notices the impact on his knees or the slandering protests that are thrown back at him. He could care less about the piece of shit dirtbag and cuffs him a little too tightly, darting his head up to check on Olivia. "You okay?"

She's still winded and her chest feels like a vacuum but despite the discomfort waves off his concern. She went down hard and will probably be seeing stars for a couple of days but she'll live.

"I'm _good_ _-_ " she confirms, hand tugging automatically at her radio to put in a call to Fin. He and Munch joined the search over an hour ago, with two other squad cars, and when she's hears him agree to meet them back at the precinct she drops her arm with a tired sigh, "let's go... get this creep off the streets."

Elliot's thighs burn as he hauls the jerk roughly to his feet stealing a quick glance at his partner. There's a slight wobble to her step but she's holding it together and he knows she won't even consider getting checked out until after they get their guy into custody. Honestly, he doesn't blame her. Two homicides, three counts of rape, multiple charges of assault and attacking a cop just made the list.

She's not the only one who wants first crack at breaking the son of a bitch.


	2. Chapter 2

It's nearly three hours later when Elliot hits peak frustration in the interrogation room. Their perp, Darren Tolgate, may as well be a wall that hurls insults and he can feel his patience slipping as he lands his weight heavily on the solid table. "You think keeping quiet will help?" He drops his head angling it towards the creep, "we have you on surveillance outside Regina Bailey's apartment, two eye witnesses that put you at Janice Williams house the night she died, and a victim statement saying you raped Marcia Cowen. You're going down buddy."

"Yeah? That all you got, _pig_." Darren spits the last word keeping his gaze level across the room. So what if he did it? The bitches were asking for it and he isn't going to admit to anything just so some fucking cop can get his rocks off. "I ain't done nothing."

"We have your fingerprints at both crime scenes and and forensics are searching Miss Cowens place now. I'm willing to bet they find more than enough to put you away." A smirk twitches on Elliot's lips as he clasps his hands together calmly, "but if you start talking now it's going to look a lot better to a judge, trust me."

"I said I'm a plumber, I probably did work there or something." He's no NYPD but he's watched enough of the shit on TV to know they can't pin anything on him. Not without hard evidence. "That circumstantial enough for ya detective?"

The small trace of amusement slips from Elliot's mouth as Novak's warning ringing in his ears. They have a case but it's not airtight without a confession and if they go to trial a well paid defence attorney could sway a jury. He needs more than he's getting and raises his voice chancing tactics. "You a mommy's boy, huh? What's wrong, she didn't love you enough so you decide to get even by beating and raping women- "

"You don't know shit!" The anger flies out and he curls his fist under the table squeezing the rage into his palm. He's not stupid enough to tank a pig in front of cameras and is glad he got it in good with the bitch cop. She's been missing from the interview and smug smile stirs on his face. "Where's your partner, couldn't handle playing with the big boys?"

Elliot knows he shouldn't engage, that he has a short temper when it comes to guys sleezing on his partner, but it's momentum and he leans back keeping a tight expression. "Detective Benson is writing up evidence so if you want to help yourself I suggest you start cooperating."

Darren notices the subtle twitch in the arrogant jerk's jaw and feels adrenaline kick in. All it would take is one slip up, one hit, and he'll walk out a free man. "Shame really..." he drawls, darting his tongue out over his lips, "pretty thing like that, getting banged up all the time. Nothing but a scared little slut if you ask me. Just like the rest of 'em, brown eyes just begging for a quick fuck."

He almost loses it snapping his fingers around the sleeve of Tolgate's shirt. If Cragen's watching he'll be hauled out in minutes but he takes the risk keeping his voice dangerously low, "talk about my partner like that again and jail will be the least of your problems."

The threat is met by a wad of spit landing across Elliot's face and he lets go lifting himself off the table. "You just fucked up Darren." He shouldn't be smug but he is. "Thanks for the DNA asshole." He doesn't wait for a response bailing out of the room with something they might actually be able to use and isn't surprised when Munch thrusts a swab kit in his direction. They have them close by just in case and as the older detective's a witness he can back the sample wasn't obtained illegally.

"Interesting tactic..." Munch comments, raising an eyebrow, "so, you ready to call it quits?"

He shakes his head rubbing the bud down the side of his cheek and dropping it in the ziplock bag. It isn't about a bet anymore, it's personal, and he exchanges the kit for an antibacterial wipe scrubbing it vigorously over his face. "Water break, let him sweat a little."

Munch pockets the sample letting go of the time limit clause as the pair of them fall into step. It's supposed to be two hours max in interrogation but after hearing what happened to Liv he's willing to make an exception. "Apparently there's a sister from Brooklyn. The two of them used to be close so we're trying to locate her, maybe she can coerce a confession."

Elliot's only half paying attention as they near the cooler, searching the room for his partner instead. Usually they tag-team together but she opted out because of a headache and when he spots her hunched over their joint desks, resting heavily against her palm, he frowns reaching for a plastic cup. She looks exhausted and he fills his water nodding in her direction, "how's Liv, she still feeling rough?"

"Says she's fine, looks pale if you ask me." Munch follows his line of sight feeding another cup under the nozzle. "I tried to convince her to get checked out but you know how she is."

He does and a smirk plays on his lips despite his concern. She's nothing if not stubborn and hates anyone making a fuss but it's his job to keep an eye on her. "Let me know if you get a hit on the sister." He steps away from the short protest that the women isn't his lead but the comment washes over him. He's more focused on Olivia and moves to join her tossing his cup in the bin by her chair. "Heard from forensics yet?"

She glances up tapping her pen on the desk with a shake of her head. So far there's been no word and she watches him drop down opposite her stretching his arms. She can tell by the tension in his shoulders he hasn't gotten a confession and feels a stab of guilt rush through her. "If you need help I can finish this later?"

"Nah..." he shuts down the idea angling an elbow behind him, "Munch wants a crack at it anyway." It's not in his nature to give up but the obvious relief in her expression takes priority over his ego. It's only a momentary reaction but the fact it's there at all worries him and when her hand jaggedly moves to rub her neck his brows draw together in concern. "You okay?"

"Yeah." The reassurance sounds hollow and she quickly forces a smile trying to ignore the tight pressure building between her temples. In fairness she'd be surprised if she didn't have a headache after the hit she took and drops her gaze back down to the reports. More specifically the words blurring across the page. They're getting harder to make sense of and when he starts speaking she has difficulty splitting her attention.

" _Sorry-_ " she pushes the paper aside to focus, "what were you saying?"

He's quiet for a moment and she's drawn to the dent creasing his forehead. She knows the look. It's the same one he uses when his kids are lying and she leans back with a sigh, "It's just a headache." Technically it's more like a migraine but for arguments sake she doesn't distinguish the difference. "I've taken some painkillers, I'm fine."

"Sure you are." The sarcasm doesn't have much of an impact and he pulls his arms down folding them across his chest. When he realises she's still waiting for an answer he reluctantly decides to repeat the information. "Munch and Fin think there's a sister, apparently the two of them used to be close so they're running the lead. Hopefully it'll turn up something." He watches the recognition slowly tick over, too slowly for his liking. Munch was right, she's far too pale and he quickly decides enough is enough. "Okay... come on-" he pushes out of the chair grabbing his keys, "I'm taking you to see a doctor."

The determined edge to his voice grates against her and she matches his stubbornness with a firm jaw. She doesn't need to sit around waiting for hours just to be told she should go home and rest. It's pointless and a waste of time. "Or what, you'll drag me out kicking and screaming?"

"Over my shoulder if I have to." He rolls down his sleeves quirking his lips at the suggestion. It's not necessarily a threat. He could easily do it and judging by the glare she shoots him she know's it as well.

"Smug son of a bitch." The insult rolls out under her breath but before she can protest any further Fin's suddenly between them brandishing a piece of paper. It's a welcome interruption and she's relived though it takes her a moment to focus on the information he's waving around.

"We got a hit on the sister, you two want to bring her in while we take a crack at this dirtbag?" He's met by a simultaneous yes and no followed by and exchange of heated glances that throw him. Whatever's going on it's not something he wants to get in the middle of but Elliot quickly snatches the address leaving him with no choice. "Take it that's a yes then?"

Elliot skims the note with a tight expression. It's the only way he's going to get hi partner near a doctor without an argument and after figuring out a route to bypass the hospital he reluctantly agrees. "I'm driving."

She can tell he's pissed and moves to follow him but the room nose dives and she has to grip the desk to keep from falling. Elliot's back beside her in a second, his hand applying a lightly pressure to her arm and she breathes in slowly trying to keep the floor from spinning out.

"Liv?" His voice is filled with concern and he glances at Fin regretting the lapse when her knees suddenly give out. He manages to catch her locking an arm around her waist and is about to call for a bus when she mumbles a protest using his shoulder to steady herself. " _Easy..._ " he instructs, loosening his grip but keeping hold of her, "I've got you, just take a minute."

Embarrassment floods her cheeks but she stills waiting for the room to settle before disentangling herself. She can tell he's reluctant to let go but sheepishly bats his hand away using the desk for support instead. "I'm fine."

"Like hell you are." He calls it, keeping close as he slides her jacket off the chair. It's no longer and argument. He's taking her to get checked out whether she likes it or not and hands the address back over to Fin. "You okay to pick up the sister?"

"Yeah. You going to the hospital?" It's probably a stupid question but he's relieved when Elliot gives him a sharp nod. "Good." He moves out of their way catching his partners gaze across the office and shakes his head slightly. He'll fill Munch in later, right now Liv doesn't need the added attention. "Take care of our girl." He's waves them off knowing he doesn't have to worry, Elliot's got her covered. He just hopes there's nothing too bad going on.


	3. Chapter 3

The traffic to the hospital is bumper to bumper and Elliot sighs tapping the steering wheel impatiently. Olivia's beside him in the passenger seat, propped against the window, and he can't help throwing another concerned glance her way. "How you feeling?"

She rolls her eyes wishing the irrational wasn't sat so close to the surface but the worry is grating against her pounding temples. It's the third time he's asked since leaving the precinct and a sigh rolls over her lips, "like someone put rocks in my head, you?"

The tone is laced with frustration and he flinches, aware he's getting on her nerves. He should probably back off, give her some breathing space, but he's worried and can't keep the questions from spilling out. "You still dizzy, hows the nausea?"

" _El_..." She issues the warning, too tired to string along sentences as he speeds up breaking into another lane. She's been focusing on the trees, watching suburbia mill by, until they start to whip passed more quickly and she has has to alter her attention to keep from becoming car sick. It's an effort to move but she manages to push herself up, leaning back against the headrest with a yawn.

The sound instantly draws his attention and when he catches her eyes slipping closed he throws an arm out over the the gearbox to nudge her awake. "No sleeping, concussion remember."

She jolt at the intrusion her voice heavy as she peels her gaze over to look at him."With you rabbiting on, no chance."

The comment draws a smirk and he's relieved when the traffic starts to thin, kicking the car into third to overtake a sputtering Hyundai in front of them. "Watch it or I'll put the sirens on."

If he does the noise would probably split her head in two and she grimaces at the thought letting her gaze drift back to the road. The lines disappearing beneath them are hypnotic, something to focus on, but they sway her equilibrium and she swallows a sickly taste in the back of her throat. The need to stop moving is overwhelming but it isn't going to happen and she settles for cracking the window down an inch instead.

The wind is icy but he doesn't complain realising he's clammy from gripping the wheel so tightly. He needs to relax, get them there in once piece, and eases off the accelerator searching for a distraction to keep her talking. "Got any plans for tonight?"

She shakes her head causing little flecks of light to dance across her vision and she immediately regrets the movement. It's hard enough channelling the pounding in her skull and the increasing nausea, she doesn't need to be dealing with dizziness as well.

The silence becomes disconcerting and he veers the car raising his voice a little louder, "Liv?"

She mumbles a response trying to ignore the spinning behind her closed eyes. It's getting harder to pull focus and she can feel herself slipping but the urgency in his voice keeps her grounded long enough to force an answer. "No... _no-thing_."

There's a slur to the words and his hands lock down hard over the wheel again. Screw it. He's ready to justify the extra speed and swings heavily at the turnoff for the hospital. They're almost there. He can see the top of the building towering and knows the route bypassing the entrance to the parking and pulling up in the ambulance drop-off outside emergency. It's vacant and he rips the keys from the ignition climbing out and rushing around to the passenger side to help her.

By the time he's got the door open she's barely conscious and he leans in to undo her belt trying to figure out the mechanics of getting her inside. She's not going to manage on her own and he wedges an arm between her back and the seat easing her from the car. It's impossible to be delicate and he takes the majority of her weight until they're standing, deciding the only logical thing to do is carry her.

She protests, even in her semi-lucid state, but he scoops her up not worried about her ego. She can complain later. His first priority is finding medical attention and he rushes through the doors honing in on an orderly. "I need some help here!" He's met by a gurney and tries to be a gentle as he manoeuvres his partner on the makeshift bed.

"Detective Stabler, what happened?"

He recognises the voice and turns relieved to see the head of the trauma Allison Ross pushing her way through. They've worked together before and he's glad to see the familiar face. "My partner took a knock to the head, said she was fine but then blacked out back at the precinct. She's been in and out since."

"Olivia, it's Doctor Ross... can you hear me?" There's no response and she takes out her penlight checking the women's pupils. One is blown and the second is unresponsive causing a wave of urgency to lead her questions, "how long ago did it happen, did she lose consciousness at all?"

"Three, maybe four hours ago." He thinks back to the encounter running through it again. She was standing by the wall when he tackled Tolgate and even though he doesn't think she was unconscious he can't be absolutely sure. "No... no, I don't think so."

Allison pulls back from the gurney as two paramedics start wheeling it towards the entry to the trauma centre. Time is critical but the more information she can gather the easier it will be to make a diagnosis and she quickly checks her watch glancing back at Elliot. ""How was she behaving afterwards? Was she moody, quiet, showing signs of any uncharacteristic behaviour?"

He follows along beside them wishing he'd paid more attention. He spent most of the afternoon questioning the son of a bitch who attacked her but is sure Munch would have mentioned if she was acting strangely. As far as they all knew she was fine and he swallows a rush of guilt trying to focus. "She was a little withdrawn, definitely irritable. I just put it down to the headache."

"That's fine detective." She nods at the answer switching her attention back to her team, "we're going to need a CT and an MRI and somebody Page Dr. Kean, I want him on standby. We could be looking at a bleed or an aneurysm so tell him to get prepped for surgery." They reach a set of double doors and she takes a step back letting them pass through first. "I'm sorry Elliot-" she squeezes his arm following protocol, "you need to wait here. I'll send someone out as soon as we know what's going on."

He wants to remind her he's NYPD, that the badge gets him in, but the sympathy etched on her features renders the point moot. This isn't a case, there's no victim, and panic clamps around his chest as she disappears in a blur.

It isn't right.

This morning he brought Olivia coffee, she reminded him to pick up his dry cleaning, he found her car keys by the fax machine. It had all been routinely normal and he fixes on the unimportant details barely registering as he's pushed out of the way by another trauma team coming through.

He needs to do something _anything_ and pulls out his phone and staring blankly at the screen. It's too soon to speak to Cragen and even though habit drives him to call Kathy he can't bring himself to dial the number. They're trying to stand on their own, learning to be without each other and he can't go running to her every time something goes hand goes wrong.

A shaky sigh exits his mouth as he limply slides the device back into his pocket.

It's his fault.

He put work first too many times, he let his marriage slide through the cracks and now he's become complacent with his partner. He should have protected her, at least insisted she go to the hospital afterwards, and his frustration wells tunnelling into anger as he storms from the emergency department hitting the cold air outside.

The squad car's still where he left it and he stalks over to it feeling a rush of frustration when a paramedic suddenly shouts at him to move it. He's angry enough to shout back. "What does it look like I'm doing!"

He climbs in and slams to door, turning the ignition and spinning the tyres as he pulls out.

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 **AN: Thanks for the reviews! I know the chapters are short but I'll try to get them out quickly :) xx**


	4. Chapter 4

Kathy calls him.

Twenty minutes after he tells Cragen Olivia needs surgery to stop a bleed in her brain.

It's not a coincidence but it's still a relief to hear his ex wife on the phone and he tries to ignore the slight tension blanketed by her comfort. The way they respond to each other is safe and familiar, the relationship the same as always, but they've changed around it. He still loves her but they're not in love anymore and he's surprised to find the realisation only stings it doesn't bludgeon through his chest like he thought it would. Maybe it's because it happened so slowly or because his focus is elsewhere at the moment but when she offers to come down to the hospital he declines with a tight smile.

It's stupid but having her stay home with the kids, knowing they're out of harms way, is something he needs right now and he hangs up with a sigh glancing to the clock on the wall. The silent tick seems louder than anything else in the waiting room and he drops his head leaning forward on his knees. His eyes hurt but he refuses to cry resigning himself to the burning sensation. Olivia needs his strength, not doubt, and he palms them fighting off a wave of exhaustion.

He'll be here all night if he has too, as long as it takes to see her out of surgery.

Another hour rolls by and eventually his body hits its limit of vending machine coffee. He physically can't stomach any more and the withdrawal sets in quickly his lashes fluttering until he slips off into a light doze. When a nudge jolts him awake he doesn't bother to look at the time just scrubs his face taking in Doctor Ross's tired expression. She's clearly exhausted but her soft smile propels a beat of cautious optimism pushing him to stand and meet her gaze. "Is she okay?"

"The surgery went well." Allison confirms, tucking the notes from Olivia's post-op under her arm. "Doctor Kean was able to stop the bleeding without any complications. There was some swelling around the parietal lobe, unfortunately we won't know if any permanent damage was sustained until she regains consciousness. We've moved her into the ICU unit and we'll have someone motoring her vitals regularly for the next forty-eight hours."

The words jar together and all he can do is stare at her blankly. It's not enough. He needs to hear that Olivia's going to make it, that she'll pull through... but no matter how he phrases the question in his mind it doesn't change the answer, they don't know.

"It's a good result Elliot." It isn't much but the veiled comfort is all she has to offer him. Right now it's a waiting game and as hard as it is their only option is to be patient. "She's stable for the moment. Why don't you go home, get some sleep _and_ \- "

"No." He breathes it out under a rushed sigh stepping into a half turn to shake off his nerves. He can't leave. His partner is in there alone, fighting for her life, and the thought is enough to make his blood run cold. "I want to see her."

Allison shifts on her feet, pulling the post-op report and tugging it to her chest. Technically it's against hospital regulations but she's sympathetic and willing to make an exception if it means he'll consider a compromise. "For five minutes and only if you agree to get some rest after. The hospital will call if there's any change to her condition."

He reluctantly gives in to the ultimatum, though he's genuinely grateful as he thanks her.

The ICU ward isn't difficult to find and he slips passed the skeleton staff trying to shake the unease resting in the pit of his stomach. He's been in emergency plenty of times during the night but there's an eerie feel to the silence and low lit lights. The atmosphere slows him to a shuffle and he reaches the threshold of Olivia's room running his gaze over her unconscious form. She looks so small and vulnerable swamped by the thin cotton blanket but the steady beep of her heart monitor urges him inside.

She's alive, it's all that matters, and he drops into the chair by her bed flexes his jerk towards her but stop suddenly, stalling just shy of touching her. He's afraid, scared she'll be cold and he flinches as a deafening quiet settles around him. In the office, on stakeouts, even when they're sulking the silence is always tolerable but here it's suffocating and he coughs clearing his throat just to hear something other than his own breathing.

It's breaking point and the emotion clings to his voice as it cuts through the stillness, "I'm losing it Liv, you gotta help me out. _I..._ "

He hesitates staring at her hand again. He's not sure what's stopping him from taking it or maybe he is. There's a reason he turned Kathy away and it wasn't just to give their relationship space, it's so he can deal with everything he shouldn't be feeling for his partner. The need, the desperation, the panic... there are few times he's ever been this afraid and on some level knows that's a problem but right now he doesn't want to think about it.

He wants to give in, and with a deep breath finally allows himself to take hold of her. She's warm not cold like he was expecting and relief pushes his lips into a tense smile. He's never been good at opening up but at this stage he doesn't have a whole lot left to lose. "I need you back okay... you hear me? I need _you,_ so don't even think about quitting on me."

The room is weighted with dead air and he slides his thumb stroking it lightly over the back of her knuckles. He doesn't want to leave but the shadows bleeding in from the corridor are a reminder he can't stay. He promised the doctor and the strain in his shoulders is starting to radiate down to his lower back. As much as he hates to admit it his body needs the reprieve and with a reluctant sigh he lets go of her hand, leaning across to brush a chaste kiss against her forehead.

After this he's not letting her out of his sight.

Ever, if he has anything to say about it.


	5. Chapter 5

Three days pass and he spends them practically living in the hospital much to the chagrin of Doctor Kean.

He doesn't care.

He's tried going home but spends the time staring at the ceiling unable to get his partners still form out of his head. At least when he's with her he sleeps and though it isn't for long he slips into the routine getting by on packet sandwiches and watered down coffee while he waits.

When Cragen drops in with something that actually tastes edible he wonders if the Captain is trying to railroad him back to the station but the conversation never strays to work. Instead they talk mostly about Olivia. How strong willed she is, how she's going to hate all this attention when she wakes up.

Neither mention there's a chance she wont.

Fin and Munch stop by when the can and even Casey finds time for an impromptu visit. The bedside table fills up with cards and well wishes that sit pushed together but flowers aren't allowed in ICU so he takes them down to the children's ward. He never stays long though. He's gotten used to the quiet of Olivia's room and always returns quickly, making sure to bring a tray of coffee up for the nurses at reception. He's not just just being friendly. They've been more than flexible with visiting hours and have even let him slip into the on-call room a couple of times but he finds it hard to drift off without the steady sound of a heart monitor.

He decides the chair by her bed is his preference. As unconformable as it is, it means he can keep an eye on her, and he's dozing lightly when a sudden change in beeping jerks him awake. On impulse he calls for help, stalling as her eyes flutter open.

She's only conscious for a few seconds but the attending who arrives and checks her vitals assures him it's a good sign.

In the morning Doctor Kean confirms the same. He reports that the swelling has gone down, the prognosis for rehabilitation is within a reasonable margin and she'll be transferred out to a non-critical ward by the afternoon. The good news is enough to make Elliot's head swim and he has to grip the chair only half registering the doctor's concerned lecture.

Go home, get rest, eat something.

This time he actually does.

For a few hours he sleeps in his own bed but the morning light jolts him awake with the realisation he still has a job, one he's neglected for the past four days. To his relief when he does make it in, after a quick shower and coffee, the first words out of Cragen's mouth are an order to go back home. It's appreciated but he doesn't shrugging off the concern. The team are swamped and he bites back a smirk as he hears Fin call out from somewhere behind him.

 _"Yo Elliot... you still working here man, or what?"_

The distraction is exactly what he needs and he spends the next couple of days answering calls and pushing papers until the hospital rings to inform him Olivia's awake. Not only that but she's been responding well to her cognitive tests and that as far as they can tell there's been no permanent damage sustained. It's the news he's been waiting to hear and he's out the door so fast he forgets his jacket and keys, taking Munch's when he passes the Detective on the way out. They can figure out the switch over later and besides his is the better car anyway.

He takes the back roads forgoing the siren and makes it to the hospital in good time. It occurs to him he should probably text Cragen but the thought slips from his mind as he navigates his way to Olivia's room catching himself on the door frame. Instead of the anxiety he's used to, relief hammers through him. She's up and awake, her face still pale but smiling when she catches him staring. He knows he should say something and takes a deep breath searching for something yards away from the emotion caught in his chest.

He settles on banter. "You look like hell."

"Checked a mirror lately?" She counters, eyeing the five o'clock shadow spilling across his face. Even with the constant pounding in her head he still looks about ten times worse than she feels. "You need to shave"

The comment prompts a smirk and he kicks into the room lightly scrubbing the stubble. She's right, the upkeep hasn't exactly been a priority but the edge of humour slips from his face as he lands back in the uncomfortable chair. He isn't angry but he is drained and a heavy sigh escapes from his mouth in place of the amusement. "So... just a headache, huh?"

Her cheeks flush with a mixture of guilt and embarrassment, her gaze instinctively dropping away from him. One of the nursers made a comment about his refusal to leave and even though she would have acted the same she can see it's taken a toll. "Thank you, for being here."

He nods slowly, straightening his back to clear the emotion forming in his throat. Part of him wants to berate her for being stubborn and refusing his help but a surge of relief overrides the impulse. She's going to be okay, that's what's important. " _Hey_... I get paid to watch your six, remember?"

There's a softness to his tone that lifts her head up again and she finds his gaze with a smile, "don't forget to claim overtime." It falls flippantly, creating a safe air that he relaxes into and she's steals the moment to study his face in the dim light. She wants him to stay, wants to admit she's scared, but keeping him here suddenly feels selfish. He's dead on his feet and she rolls her arm brushing her thumb against his fingers. "Go home El, get some sleep... _shave_."

The tone almost draws a chuckle but it chokes under a rush of air as he impulsively catches her hand.

The words are there to follow, to explain he's been through hell and back, but they startle at her confused expression and he quickly realises why. They don't do this. They already know how strong their feelings are and never tempt fate by crossing lines in the aftermath but that's the point, she _doesn't_ know.

He didn't even understand and lets go of her, his stomach crashing like an anvil. "You're right, I should get going." He pushes up avoiding the questions swimming in her gaze. He can't do it. He won't ruin eight years of friendship because he can't get his head screwed on right. "I'll stop by tomorrow."

"Elliot?" She calls him back, concern twisting in her brow but she can tell by the firm set of his jaw he's not going to part with whatever's wrong.

 _She's right._

"Get some rest." He forces a smile hoping it's enough, that maybe she'll believe he's just burnt out from exhaustion. It's a stretch and god help him because he needs out of these feelings fast.

Before they do any real damage.


End file.
